


Thread Starters and Prompts

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Angst, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Claiming Bites, Drunk Castiel, Drunken Confessions, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kink Meme, Kissing, Long Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Omega Castiel, Overstimulation, Rape Roleplay, Rimming, Sexual Roleplay, Top Castiel, Top Dean, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 9,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: A collection of short fics and drabbles filled on my tumblr account and then reposted here, for your enjoyment.





	1. If the Panties Fit

_“Are you sure that’s going to fit?”_

“What exactly are you insinuating?” Dean grunts, eyes narrowed at Castiel as he fumbles with a skimpy pair of panties, blue lace stretched around his right ankle and hitched up his left calf. Castiel rolls his eyes and turns over on to his stomach, naked body stretching out languidly as he watches Dean try to dress himself.

“Baby, you didn’t fit into those panties even in our sophomore year of college. You aren’t going to fit into them now.”

“I’ve been working out,” Dean grunts, nearly tripping over his own feet as he wiggles his hips and hitches the panties higher up his thighs. Castiel scoffs and Dean shoots a glare in his direction, grinning triumphantly when the panties suddenly give and fit snugly onto Dean’s hips. They fit him so snugly that Castiel imagines they can’t be comfortable, though it doesn’t stop them from looking hella sexy. They hug Dean’s plump ass and cup his cock, hard and leaking with the tip poking free from the lacy hem.

“Told you so,” Dean smirks, leaning forward so that his hips sway closer to Castiel’s face, cock hard and leaking against the tight fabric. Cas licks his lips, reaching out and grabbing at Dean’s ass to pull him closer.

“Yeah, baby, you did. And you’re so sexy. You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, and with a moan of pleasure leans forward and seals his lips around the swollen, leaking head of Dean’s cock.


	2. Short of Breath

_“Wrap your– uh, wrap your hands around my throat…”_

Dean’s body rocks beneath Castiel’s, sweaty palms reaching out to grasp at the angel’s biceps as his hips rock against Dean’s ass. The rhythm of his thrusts falters slightly with Dean’s words, but he doesn’t stop, and then moan that punches it’s way out of his throat is almost involuntary.

“Yes, yes Dean, whatever you– _fuck, you’re so tight_ – whatever you want.”

His hand moves from where it’s been gripping Dean’s hip and slides over the hunter’s damn chest, over his toned abdomen and perky nipples to the apex of Dean’s shoulder and neck. He sees Dean’s Adam’s Apple twitch, feels his erection pressing hot and wet between their stomachs. The pace of his thrusts quickens as he places his hand over Dean’s throat and presses down just slightly, just testing, and he and Dean both moan as the hunter’s entire body tightens up with the pressure.

“Again,” Dean gasps when Cas leans back again, and the angel nods, seeing white as he leans forward again and let’s the full weight of his body rest on his hand, over Dean’s throat. The hunter coughs and jerks, eyes screwing shut, and sticky semen coats both of their bellies as it sprays from Dean’s cock, which is still hard and not even waning when he comes back to himself.

He moans lewdly and throws his head back, and Castiel kisses him, swallowing all of his delicious sounds as his cum splashes inside of fills Dean, owning him inside and out.


	3. Right Here, Right Now

_“Home is too far away. No one’s going to see us here.”_

The Impala’s tires screech against the turnpike as Dean takes a sharp turn off the road, pulling off into an abandoned rest stop.  Rain pelts against the windows and fills the silence with white noise as Dean kills the engine and lets the car idle.

“Dean–”

“No, Cas.  Just,” he reaches out, fingers cupping Castiel’s scruffy face gently, in juxtaposition to the rough tone of Dean’s voice and tense movements.  He presses forward, kissing Castiel with an open mouth and more teeth than anything else, but its warm and sweet and he is kissing back, and that’s all that matters.

“Look, Cas,” Dean’s breath is hot against Cas’s lips when they pull apart, bodies flush as they move together, each trying to undress the other as quickly as possible.  “Y’know I’m not… I’m not with the whole love and _love_  thing, but I… You’re so… You’ve got to know by now that I would do anything–”

“I know the way you love, Dean,” Castiel breaths, pressing a gentle kiss to the bolt of Dean’s jaw which turns into more of a bite near the end, Castiel’s breath short against Dean’s neck as he finally manages to unfasten the buckle of Dean’s belt and pants.  “You don’t need to say it aloud.  You say it with your actions,” he smiles, fingers slipping into Dean’s boxers and stroking over his growing erection, cock plumping nicely under Castiel’s ministrations.  “With your touches.”

“But I– _ah_ , _fuck, Cas_ – I want to say it out loud.  I want everyone to know I’m yours. I want…”

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel rumbles, and Dean groans, body jerking when the angel squeezes him roughly.  He presses forward, sealing their lips in a kiss and tearing Castiel’s shirt straight open, hands dragging roughly over the flat planes of his chest and groping all over his body, his groin.  He moans, surging forward, and they kiss again as their bodies grind.

_“I want everything.”_


	4. Leave Your Mark

_“Oh fuck, yes. Bite me again.”_

Dean growls and rocks his hips forward, thick cock splitting Castiel’s ass open and punching lewd moans from the handsome Omega’s lips.  His fingers dig into strong, thick thighs and he bends forward, chest sliding against Castiel’s sweat damp back as he drapes himself over his mate.  He grinds their hips together, cock pulsing and throbbing inside, and noses greedily at the back of Castiel’s neck where his scent glands are.

“Need you, Cas.  Needed you today,” he gasps, and presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over the Omega’s shoulders and neck.  Castiel moans and arches his back, fucking himself onto Dean’s cock as his instincts demand the Alpha’s knot.

“I’m here now.  Come on, Alpha, claim me.  Bite me again and show everyone what a good, strong Alpha you are for your mate.”

Dean whines needily, arms tightening around Castiel’s waist as he pulls his mate impossibly closer, mouthing at the Omegas’s neck as his canines extend and sharpen.  It doesn’t take long for him to find the perfect spot; if his eyes were closed and hands tied behind his back he’d be able to find Cas;s mating bite like it was nothing.  His teeth pierce Castiel’s skin and he groans, knot swelling up inside of Castiel’s ass as he cums in hot, thick ropes.

Castiel groans loudly and reaches beneath himself, holding himself up with one muscular arm as he jerks his cock until he’s coming all over the bedspread beneath him.  Finally he relaxes, moaning softly and collapsing against the mattress, sighing happily when Dean collects him in his arms and kisses him sweetly.

“You okay, De?” Castiel whispers, and the Alpha nods, humming contentedly.

“Yeah, baby.  Work was rough, but you always make it better.  You’re perfect.”


	5. Take Me Anyway

_“Pretend you don’t want it.”_

Dean’s fingers are twisted in Castiel’s thick, raven hair when the words escape his mouth seemingly on their own accord.  Castiel jerks and coughs in surprise, choking on Dean’s cock, and _fuck that shouldn’t be so hot_.  Dean stifles a groan  and looks down at Castiel with wide eyes, his boyfriend’s lips slick with spit and precome and his free hand still wrapped around his own cock, stroking hard and fast as he stares up at Dean.

“Yes, okay.  Yes. What do you want me to… To bite you?” His eyebrows scrunch up inquisitively, and if Dean weren’t so fucking hard right now he would be kissing all over that cute, concentrated frown.  As it is his dick feels like it’s about to explode, so instead he shakes his head and bites his lips.

“No, we don’t wanna hurt each other.  Just…,” he pauses, chewing hip lip contemplatively for just a moment before he throws himself on top of Cas and tackles him to the floor, straddling his hips and wrapping his hands around Cas’s neck.  The surprise in the blue eyes that look up at him is genuine, but there is no fear there, and Dean smirks when he feels Castiel’s throbbing erection smack his thigh.

_“I just want to hear you scream.”_

“Dean–”

Castiel gasps when Dean smacks him, not hard enough to really hurt but enough to leave a mark.  “Shut up and spread your legs, slut.  I’m going to ruin your ass.”

“N-no, please.  I can’t…,” Castiel’s brain finally seems to catch up to the little game they are playing, and Dean grins, yanking his legs apart and spitting into his palm.  Castiel kicks at him, rolling over onto his stomach and crawling away.  But Dean grabs ahold of him, biting at his asscheek, and Castiel cries out in protest as his boyfriend’s tongue drags over his tight hole and dips inside.

“So tight.  Bet you’re a virgin back here.  Bet you’ll cry when I shove my fat cock inside your tight little ass.”

“Dean, please, don’t do this…”

“Why not?  Who’s going to stop me?” He chuckles darkly and reaches around, squeezing Castiel’s cock, which is now hard and dripping precum all over the floor.  “Besides, you’ll enjoy it.”


	6. Three's Company

_“They’re next, after I’m done with you.”_

Benny’s voice is soft and warm but it still sends a tremor up Castiel’s spine, and he whines as Benny circles him like a predator stalking their pray.  His eyes, damp with tears, flick over to Dean where he’s tied to a chair in the corner, cock hard and leaking against his stomach as he watches Benny and Castiel with rapt attention.  Castiel shivers again, and he hears Benny chuckle.

“Does that make you hot, Cher?  To have Dean watchin’?”

“S’better when he plays with us,” Castiel answers, and Benny chuckles, palming at Castiel’s ass and pulling his cheeks apart.  A single finger dips in, sinking deep in his lubed up hole, and Castiel keens and whines.  The finger is quickly replaced by benny’s cock, and he takes it easily, stretched out from hours of play and prep leading up to this moment.  he cries out and tosses his head back, and pillowed against Benny’s broad chest he lets the vampire fuck him.  Benny’s thrusts are fast and harsh, nothing like the gentle rolls Dean likes, but it’s just as good as any sex he’d ever had with either of them.  

He hears a soft noise from the corner, and when he and Benny look over they see Dean is humping the air helplessly, face flushed red and cock visibly dripping.  Castiel moans at the sight, cock twitching against his stomach, and he cums in thick white globs all over his belly and thighs.  Benny moans, gripping Castiel’s hips closer as he fucks up into him, and Dean groans across the room.

_“Please, Benny…”_

“Should we untie him, Cas?  Maybe he can come over here and suck your little cock for you?” He grunts, face twisting in pleasure when Cas tightens down on his cock.  Castiel nods, moaning, and Benny bites at his neck gently before finally pulling out of his well-used ass to go untie Dean.  As he goes, Castiel can feel the vampire’s cum dripping from his hole and down the back of his thighs.  He thinks he’s never felt so owned in his life, and he loves it.


	7. Hungry like the Wolf

_“You know I love you, right? I have every intention of fucking you like I don’t.”_

“Jesus Cas… when you say shit like that…”

“It makes you hard?” The angel smirks as he leans forward, a predatory gleam in his eye, and crawls on top of Dean.  Their bodies press flush together, cocks grinding and pulsing, and Dean makes a noise that he will certainly never admit is a whine.  “Does it make you want me, Dean?  Make you want to spread your legs like a good boy and give yourself up to me?”

_“Cas…”_

“Come on, Dean,” he breathes against the hunters lips, fingers digging into the hunter;s muscular thighs and hitching them up over his shoulders.  And then, without waiting for any other response, he dives in and starts to lick and suck at Dean’s hole like a starved man.  Dean jerks and cries out, fingers tangling into Castiel’s hair, and the angel honest-to-god growls as he spears his tongue on Dean’s hole.

It’s going to be a very long night for Dean Winchester.


	8. I'm Not Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 300 Words or less Thread Starters: "I'm not okay"

Gabriel’s car keys skid across the table when he tosses them there, hastily shedding his jacket and draping it over one of the dining room chairs as he hurries into the house. The air smells like lemon and butter and fish, and Gabriel’s mouth is already watering before he even makes it to the kitchen. There Balthazar is leaned over the stove, watching his cod filet closely as it sizzles away in a bath of butter and herbs.

“Something smells delicious,” Gabriel declares just as he sidles up behind his fiance, hands finding his hips and fitting snugly around his middle. Balthazar startles and jumps, dislodging Gabriel’s grip on his waist and knocking the frying pan straight off the stove. Hot butter and half-cooked fish splatter all over the floor and countertop, and the kitchen fills with the sound of their shouting as the hot oil splashes in fat drops against their exposed skin.

“What the hell, Bal!”

“You scared me, Gabriel! Fuck!”

“Don’t yell at me, you bastard! Your fish juice got in my eye!”

“Fuck you, Gabriel!”

“Oh my– I can’t fucking see!”

“Jesus, come here Gabriel, stop it!”

Balthazar swats Gabriel’s hands away from his face, where he’s been rubbing at his eyes, and takes ahold of his jaw so he can get a good look at his fiance’s face. His left eye is red and puffy, and there are tear tracks on his cheek. He purses his lips thoughtfully and brushes his knuckles against the other man’s cheek, then turns and walks towards the freezer.

“Are you okay, love?”

“Do I look okay?” Gabriel grumbles, hands immediately returning to his face to rub at his eyes, now that Balthazar isn’t there to stop him. “I am not okay.”

“Here,” Balthazar returns momentarily, forcing a bag of frozen peas into Gabriel’s hands after he pries them away again from his face. He pushes the other man’s hair back and levels him with an exasperated, if not fond, look. “You will be fine, dear. Why don’t you go take a seat on the couch, order us some takeout, and I’ll clean up this mess?” He grimaces at the greasy linoleum floor, butter and chunks of fish cooling on the tile. Gabriel pauses for a beat, then nods.

“Yeah, okay.”

He leans in, kissing Balthazar sweetly, and they both smile. Everything is, actually, okay.


	9. Great, Now How Are We Supposed to Get Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 300 Words or Less Thread Starters: "Great, Now how are we Supposed to Get Home?"

“Look, Cas, it’s just like Hannah Montana said-”

“If you sing The Climb to me one more fucking time, Dean Winchester, I will jump out of this moving car so help me God.”

They’ve been driving for hours now, with no rest stops in sight, and the stuffy cabin of the Impala is starting to feel a little too cramped between the two of them. After taking a wrong turn (a series of very wrong turns, Castiel would be quick to point out in future retellings of this story) they’ve been following endless highway detours for what feels like eternity. Castiel is grumpy when he hasn’t gotten a proper night’s sleep, and considering they’ve been on the road for almost thirteen hours now, Dean can’t really say he blames the guy for being a sourpuss. Dean is sick of the nonstop driving, too.

Though Cas doesn’t have to be a such a bitch about it.

“Cas, baby, if you want to get out and walk the 800 miles home, then by all means, be my guest,” Dean snarks, lifting his brow at Castiel. His husband says nothing in response, simply crosses his arms over his chest and offers an exhausted harumph. Dean rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the road, just in time for the Impala to let out a pitiful noise, engine sputtering, coughing and grumbling angrily. She starts to gradually slow down and Dean slams his fist against the wheel, cursing quietly and pumping the gas pedal uselessly until finally, pathetically, his Baby rolls to a stop in the middle of the highway.

“Alright, get out,” Dean grunts after a pregnant pause, shoving his door open and swinging his feet out to meet the pavement. The sun is beating overhead– they’re stuck somewhere near the eastern border of Utah– and Dean can already feel his shirt clinging to his back. 

“Dean,” Castiel frowns at him over the hood of the car. “How are we supposed to get home now?”

“Relax, Cas,” Dean says as he moves around to open the hood of the car. “I’m gonna check her out first and see if it’s the battery or somethin’. I can probably give her a jump start if need be.” 

“Um, Dean,” Castiel sounds weary, and he is about to offer a snarky reply to whatever comment Cas is about to make when he sees his husband pointing to the highway, or rather, to the long trail of gasoline following the Impala’s path along the highway. There is a small puddle of fuel beneath the car, dripping down straight from a hole in the gas tank. Dean groans.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Sam is only a twelve hour drive away,” Castiel offers bleakly, pulling out his cell phone and tapping away, presumably texting Sam. The guy freaking loves texting. “He can come pick us up.”

“That still leaves us twelve hours,” Dean mumbles, then looks up at the sky overhead. It’s already sinking; sunset will be soon. “We should push the car off the side of the road, so nobody hits us accidentally.”

Castiel nods in agreement, but he’s still frowning to himself. “And then what? What will we do for twelve hours, just sit around and twiddle our thumbs?”

Dean looks over at Cas, smirks, and then wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “Honey, this is exactly what Hannah Montana was talking about!” he starts, then laughs when Castiel’s frown turns into a scowl. he reaches out, grabbing Castiel by the lapels of his jacket and pulling him close, so their bodies are flush. “Try to think of it this way… We’re not sitting around wasting twelve hours if we make the most of our time. Get it?”

Castiel pauses contemplatively, and then suddenly his eyes widen in understanding. His eyes flicker towards the Impala, then back to Dean, and he grins.

“Hurry up, let’s get this car into the shade so I can fuck you into the back seat.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Sam has no clue why Castiel comes back from his road trip with Dean as a diehard Hannah Montana fan. He doesn’t think he wants to know, either, when he sees all the hickeys on his brother’s neck the morning he picks them up.


	10. Mating Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mating season would begin on the first day of spring, in the early morning. Dean stayed up nearly all night preparing himself, readying the nest he’d contracted in his own loft as he dreamt of all the fledglings he and Castiel would father together. Beautiful infant angels with Castiel’s eyes and his smile and with Dean’s hair and wings. He dreamed of how he would spoil his Omega, and dote on him senselessly once he finally claimed Castiel as his own.

There were others who pursued a mating bond with Castiel. Among them, Balthazar of House Milton and Michael of the Archangels. But none of them could account for the same determination as Dean of House Winchester, who boasted an impressive record as a soldier of heaven, and an inimitable affection for Castiel, the only remaining omega angel in all of House Novak.

Dean doted on Castiel with as much passion as he had ever fought in battle, with as much ambition as he had ever sought to capture his treasures, and with as much care as he had shown his own House. He spoiled the omega with beautiful gifts; lavish dresses and frilly things, beautiful stones to decorate his body and his home. He even gifted Castiel with a beautiful silken quilt he’d procured from a neighboring realm, a rather provocative gesture when one considered that such blankets and clothes were typically only exchanged between mates who were building a nest together. But Castiel had readily accepted the gift- all of the gifts, in fact- and looked on Dean with just as much affection as the Alpha had looked on him with.

Mating season would begin on the first day of spring, in the early morning. Dean stayed up nearly all night preparing himself, readying the nest he’d contracted in his own loft as he dreamt of all the fledglings he and Castiel would father together. Beautiful infant angels with Castiel’s eyes and his smile and with Dean’s hair and wings. He dreamed of how he would spoil his Omega, and dote on him senselessly once he finally claimed Castiel as his own.

Now that the Omega was of age, he was fair game to any angel who could catch him in flight. And Castiel was a fast flyer, but Alphas were bigger by nature, and Dean was faster still than he was.

So were Balthazar and Michael, too.

Dean felt something wrong as soon as he took flight that morning, or perhaps he even smelt it, as he dove down through the air and caught sight of Castiel’s beautiful wings gliding below. Pure wide with golden flecks glinting in the sunshine, enticing Alphas far and near. Dean smiled and dove down, down, eyes locked in his beautiful Omega when suddenly, he disappeared. Dean fluttered to a halt, looking around frantically, only to realize that Castiel had not vanished but had been rammed into by another angel, who now held him as they engaged in a free-fall together.

This was not a typical catch. This was violent, and rushed. It was wrong, and Dean seethed as he dropped into a free fall as well, tucking his tawny wings close as he plummeted toward the tangle of feathers down below. He beat his wings angrily when he met them, and suddenly Castiel was freed from the grasp of the Alpha, revealing Michael of the Archangels glaring at Dean.

“Are you daring to challenge my claim on this omega, Dean of House Winchester?” He snarls. Dean lets his wings arch behind him, and he narrows his eyes at the Alpha. He can spot Castiel fluttering off in the distance, far enough away to remain safe, but close enough to watch.

“He is my omega, and it is my claim you have challenged.” He huffed back. Michael snarled again and flew around Dean, wings spread wide in an intimidation tactic. Dean grit his teeth and puffed his wings out more, aggressively. Michael’s eyes went red.

“I see no mating claim on his neck. I’ve already defeated Balthazar today, taking you will be no challenge. And then I will have my omega, and he will carry my fledglings.”

That was it for Dean, and he snarled as he charged forward, withdrawing his angel blade and swinging it at Michael’s face. The angel dodged him easily, golden wings flaring angrily as he withdrew his own blade and took a swing at Dean. The metal barely knicked Dean’s skin before he was swinging back, angrier than before, trying to overpower Michael.

Its a hard fight. One which ended on the ground, Dean flat on his back with Michael looming over him. He raised his blade in defense but Michael kicked it away, and his wrist broke. Dean cried out in pain, wings flaring with the pain. He looked over his shoulder and saw Castiel hovering, a worried expression in his face, and he let out an anguished sob. He couldn’t allow his mate to be taken from him. Not like this, or after all they’d been through.

Michael sneered at him and kicked him once more in the stomach, then leapt up and dove towards Castiel. He captured the Omega in his arms and pulled their bodies flush. “You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.” “No,” Castiel hissed, squirming helplessly in the Alpha’s arms. Then, looking over to where Dean was crumpled on the floor, cried out in desperation, “Please. Dean!”

His head swam, his stomach cramping painfully but the sight of Michael holding Cas, whispering in his ear like that… he groaned and kicked himself to his feet and let his wings carry him a few feet above the ground- as far as they would go in their torn and bloodied state. Michael laughed, but then Dean reached out, and with an unexpected hand to Michael’s forehead was able to stun the angel long enough to grab his blade. With a flourish he sunk it into Michael’s gut, white light blinding the sky as Dean sunk to the ground beside the dead Archangel, body shaking.

A gentle weight pressed onto his back and Dean stirred, rolling over so that he could come to face the man laying on top of him. Castiel smiles down at him, gentle hands trailing gentle touches over his bruised and beaten body. Dean whimpered softly in pain, yet leaned into the touch nonetheless, sighing happily as he scented his omega. Sweet oranges and crisp mint, and maybe something rich like chocolate too. He purred and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s body, nuzzling his cheek.

“It was _you_ I was always meant to be with. I love you, Dean.”

The Alpha’s breath hitched and he rolled over, arms wrapping all the way around Castiel’s waist, fingers tangled into his luxurious wings. “I made us a nest. One just for you and I. Cas, I feel so…” he struggles to find the words, his entire body singing with pain and the telltale throb of broken bones.

“Shh, Dean. Let me take us there,” he wrapped his arms around the Alpha angel, under his shoulders, and hoisted them both into the air. He kissed Dean tenderly, like he was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted in the world despite the heavy metallic tang of his blood on Cas’s lips. “I’ll take care of you there.”

“We’ll take care of each other.”

And they do. For the rest of their lives, they take care of each other.


	11. Eat Me, Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel eats Dean out until he cums on his tongue, and then he keeps going.

Beads of sweat pool and run down the small of Dean’s back, gathering there as he ruts against the sheets, biceps curled his pillow at the head of the bed. He whimpers into the fabric and tilts his hips back, knees braced on the mattress as Castiel shifts between his legs. The angel’s fingers curl around his thighs, surely leaving bruises that will be visible in the morning, and Dean moans.

“Fuck, that’s right. _Cas_. Come on, angel. _Eat me_.”

His breath is stolen right from his lungs as Castiel leans in, tongue flattening against the tight furl of muscle between Dean’s ass cheeks. He pulls them further apart, exposing the pink ring to the cool air of the bedroom and watching as Dean clenches instinctively from the temperature shift. He blows purposefully at the sensitive area and Dean groans into the pillow, body shaking, cock twitching against the bedspread. He can already see a puddle of precum forming on the sheets.

“Be patient, Dean,” Castiel rumbles as he leans in, swirling his tongue around the tight ring and dipping in. His skin tastes like sweat and salt and sex, and Cas hums happily, mouth sealing around the pucker and sucking. It punches a gasp right out of Dean’s lungs, and the angel chuckles low and dark, smirking against his sensitive skin.

“Cas, please,” Dean begs, voice choked. Castiel swirls his tongue around again and pushes it inside, deeper this time, circling around the rim again and again until Dean is writhing against the sheets. His thrusts deep, and hard, slurping and sucking like he’s never eaten in his life and Dean is a Thanksgiving feast. The Hunter is nearly crying on the bed by the time Castiel pushes one finger in. He teases at Dean’s prostate relentlessly, tongue and hand now working in tandem, and Dean just about loses his mind.

“Cas!”

He muffles his scream into the pillow as he cums, making a mess of the sheets beneath him, and Castiel continues to eat his ass right through the orgasm. Dean is shaking, his cock soft and spent in a puddle of his own cum, and Cas continues to slurp at his hole, swirling the tip of his tongue around his rim as Dean cries into his pillow. The angel’s hand goes down to cup his own erection, semi-hard and ready for attention.

Dean lets out a choked noise and begs half-heartedly for Cas to stop; that it’s too much, he’s oversensitive. Castiel smiles against his ass, and gives his own erection a pleasurable squeeze. His tongue doesn’t stop.

It’s going to be a long night for Dean Winchester.


	12. Beauty-School Drop Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean can't stand to disappoint his husband one more time, so he doesn't tell him he's flunking out of college.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Castiel crosses his arms over his chest and stares Dean down, jaw clenching and unclenching as he grinds his teeth. Dean huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away from his husband and going into the kitchen. He has to get dinner started.

“It’s not a big deal, Cas,” he snaps. “So I dropped the class– who cares? I wasn’t passing anyway! I didn’t even want to go to college in the first place.” The last bit he adds in a mumbled breath, unsure if Castiel will even catch it. He does, of course, and he scoffs angrily.

“You can’t be serious right now, Dean– don’t try to turn this around and blame me. I only encouraged you to go to college because I was sick of you _berating_ yourself for dropping out in the first place!”

“Or maybe not, Cas!” Dean yells, finally letting his husband’s anger spread to himself, like a virus. “Maybe you only wanted me to go to college so bad because you were embarrassed your own husband couldn’t even finish high school–flunked out and barely even got his GED–and you were ashamed of that!” He slams a metal pan down on the stove and tanks the fridge open, removing the ingredients he needs one by one. He slams each one down on the counter harder than the last. Finally he turns back to Cas, who is standing in front of him in silence, and snarls. “Well, I don’t hear you denying it, so it must be true. What do you have to say to that?”

“I just don’t understand,” Castiel says, and his voice cracks, but he continues on. “I thought… I thought you were doing fine. If you were having trouble, Dean, you should have come to me. You should have asked for my help.” All of the anger is gone from his voice now, and he looks at Dean with nothing but consideration and concern in his gaze. Dean bites his lip to keep it from trembling and closes the fridge, leaning heavily against the door as it shuts. He crossed his arms over his chest, defensively, and looks down at his shoes.

“I didn’t… I’m always askin’ you for help, Cas. With school, at least. It doesn’t come naturally and I didn’t want to have to bother you. I just wanted to do something on my own for once.” His eyelids flutter and Cas recognizes that his husband is trying not to cry. “I wanted to finish the class on my own, for you. I wanted to show you that I could do– that I could _be_ more than the genius software developer’s dumb dropout husband.”

“I’m not a genius,” Castiel responds, stepping forward and reaching out so he can gently cup Dean’s face. He lifts his head so they can look each other in the eyes. “And you aren’t dumb. So you’re having trouble passing a college level statistics course? I failed stats twice when I was in college,” he leans forward and pecks Dean’s chin with a kiss, dragging his thumb back and forth over his jaw soothingly. “We’ll get you a tutor. You don’t need to give up.”

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, placing his own hand over his husband’s and letting their foreheads knock together. “I’m sorry.”

“If you’re apologizing for failing the class, I don’t care. But baby, you’ve got to know by now I’m not embarrassed by you. And I would never try to force you into changing yourself for me.”

“I know,” Dean answers, swallowing, and when he leans in for a gentle kiss Castiel meets him gladly halfway there. He smiles, and Dean smiles back. “Thank you for that.”

Castiel chuckles. “I love you. Will you call the college tomorrow and talk to your advisor?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, I will. Now go pick out a movie, I’ll get dinner started.”


	13. Not-So-Fake Boyfriends

“Oh, no,” Dean hisses, snatching the menu in front of him from the table top and trying to prop it up in front of his face. The menu is too small and it does a terrible job of hiding anything above his chin. “Oh, shit. No, no, no.“

“Dean?” Castiel frowns and peeks around the corner of the menu, taking in the flushes, panicked expression on his roommate’s face. He follows Dean’s gaze towards the doorway, where he can see a group of several young men and women standing around chatting, waiting to be seated. He frowns. “What’s going on?”

“That’s– that’s my ex,” he curses under his breath, wincing when a particularly attractive brunette turns in their direction, her eyes lingering on Dean and Castiel’s booth for just a second too long. “ _Crap_ , she saw me,” he drops the menu and looks away, only sparing a peek at Cas after a few seconds. “What’s she looking at?”

“She’s walking over here right now.”

“What?” Dean’s eyes almost bulge right out of his head, and he curses again when he sees Lisa is in fact walking right towards him. He reaches out fast and grabs Cas’s hand. His roommate frowns.

“Uh, Dean…?”

“Just pretend to be my date,” he hurries out, squeezing Cas’s hand. His protests are drowned out by Lisa as she comes up to the table, a genuine smile on her face.

“Dean! How’ve you been?”

“Good,” he gives Cas’s hand a rough squeeze when the other man kicks him under the table. He hides his wince with a smile. “You look really nice. This is my– my boyfriend, Castiel,” he turns his smile on Cas, who lifts his free hand to wave awkwardly at Lisa.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Lisa smiles brightly at him. “Dean and I used to date in freshman year. God, it feels like ages ago, doesn’t it?” She laughs, and Dean smiles awkwardly and nods. Castiel clears his throat.

“Oh yes, Dean was just telling me how you two used to–” he coughs suddenly when a foot hits him in the shin, and he glares fleetingly at Dean before turning his attention back to Lisa. “Actually, I think you and I have met before. Dean and I have been roommates since freshman year.”

“Oh my God!” Lisa gasps, slapping his forehead and smiling down at Castiel. “You’re right! Oh, how nice that you two ended up together. You know, I always knew there was something between you two. I mean, the way you guys looked at each other…,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Well, its so sweet that you guys finally got together.”

“Oh yes, we’re very happy,” Castiel beams, his nails digging into Dean’s palm when the other man tries to pull his hand away. He turns to him, smiling. “Did you want to say something, honeybee?”

“Oh no, dear, I’m fine,” he grits out. Lisa giggles and claps her hands together.

“You two are _so cute_! Well anyway, I’ve got to go,” she glances back at her party as they are led away by their waiter, “but it was so nice running into you. I’m happy for you guys!”

“Thanks, Lis,” Dean manages, and the instant she walks away he yanks his hand away from Cas’s. He tries to keep the hurt expression from his face and instead turns a halfhearted glare on Dean. He scoffs.

“Don’t look at me like that! Honeybee? Really?”

“You asked for it, Dean. Was all that really necessary? She just wanted to say hi.”

“Yeah, and I don’t want her to think she’s winning the break up. So I panicked and grabbed your hand– it’s not a big deal.  So Lisa thinks we're dating.  What does it matter?”

“ _Winning the break–_ What are you, _four_ , Dean? And It is a big deal. She’s gonna tell everybody we’re together now, and then she’ll find out you’re lying.”

“Oh what, you don’t want people to think we’re together?” Dean hisses, eyes narrowed at his roommate. Castiel guffaws.

“Well, we aren’t, so… no, I don’t want people to think that,” he rolls his eyes, then pauses. “Why? Do you want people to think that?”

Dean swallows and shrugs. “Lisa bought it.”

“What?”

“She said… she always knew there was something there. Between you and I, I mean. So if people thought we were together, I don’t think…,” he bit his lips. “I wouldn’t mind if people thought we were together.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows, hand creeping across the table until his fingertips brush Dean’s knuckles. “And if we were together?” He whispers. Dean bites his lip, then smiles and turns his palm over. He lets Castiel take his hand.

“I wouldn’t mind that one bit either, honeybee.”


	14. Just a Greasy Stove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Destiel - things you said with too many miles between us :)
> 
> The phone is ringing. Dean shouts for Sam to get it– he’s in the middle of baking a soufleé, and if he doesn’t get it to rise just right he is going to fail his French Baking class– and he settles in to watch it bake through the tempered glass door of the oven. Not ten seconds later, Sam appears in the doorway of the kitchen with a constipated look on his face and the house phone held outstretched in his hand.
> 
> “It’s for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read so please politely) point out any grammar/spelling errors you see :) thanks

The phone is ringing.  Dean shouts for Sam to get it– he’s in the middle of baking a soufleé, and if he doesn’t get it to rise just right he is going to fail his French Baking class– and he settles in to watch it bake through the tempered glass door of the oven.  Not ten seconds later, Sam appears in the doorway of the kitchen with a constipated look on his face and the house phone held outstretched in his hand.

“It’s for you." He bustles out of the room as soon as Dean takes the phone from his hands.  Frowning, confused, and mildly concerned, Dean raises the receiver to his ear just in time to hear a noise that sounds something like an elephant’s trumpet.  Or maybe somebody blowing their nose?  He hopes for the latter and timidly, Dean clears his throat.

“Hello?”

“Dean.” It’s Castiel, and he’s crying.  Sobbing, actually, into the phone.  “Dean, I’m so alone here,” he whines.  Dean frowns.  he and cas have been seeing each other for almost a year, but over this summer they decided to take a break while castiel went to Spain to study abroad.  They still keep in pretty much constant contact through text message and snapchat, and they have a mutual understanding that they are going to get back together when Cas comes home to the U.S.  

But getting a phone call like this from Cas, in the middle of the day (doesn’t that mean it’s like 2 a.m. in Spain?  What is Cas doing up at this hour?) is unusual in itself.  Add on the fact that Castiel is pretty much sobbing on the other end of the line?  Dean is very concerned.  Castiel never cries.

“Cas?  What’s the matter?”

“Dean, I was watching Spongebob and it made me… very sad. Season 2, Episode 34,” he sniffles, “are you familiar?”

“Umm…,” Dean frowns, scratching the back of his neck.  “Dude, what’s the matter with you?  Are you drunk?”

“That is not of import,  Dean,” he says, emphatically, “it’s the episode where Mr. Krabs selled–  _sold_  Spongebob to– to Plankton.  And then, they sang about it?  You know?” His voice is quivering again, and Dean is afraid that he’s going to start crying again, so he answers quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the episode.  ‘This kitchen’s not the same without you’, right?” he says, looking around his own apartment kitchen.  he can picture castiel standing bent over the stove, examining the burnt peach cobbler he tried to make for Dean’s birthday, trying to figure out what went wrong (he forgot to put the eggs in).  His kitchen feels more lonely, now that he thinks of it.

Castiel bursts into tears on the other end of the line, sobbing and hiccuping and blubbering.  Dean decides he must be drunk, and that suspicion is confirmed when Castiel begins to crudely wail in Dean’s ear, “ _BUT THIS GRILL IS NOT A HOME! This is not the stove I_ know! _This kitch– kitchen’s not the sa– same, without_ youuuu…”

“Cas, Cas!  Oh my God, please stop,” Dean cries, and he hears the timer beep for his soufleé.  he curses and drops the phone, scrambling for the oven, and by the time he’s gotten the cake out (perfectly risen and completely in tact, thank God) and he picks the phone back up, he can hear cas retching on the other end.  He hopes he’s at least near a toilet bowl or a garbage can.  The flush of a toile lets him know it was the former, and he feels relieved that at least his boyfriend won’t have to clean up a disgusting vomit-mess tomorrow morning, on top of the nasty hangover he’s definitely going to have.

“Baby, are you alright?” 

“I miss you, Dean,” he confesses, voice crackling over the line.  Dean swallows hard, his chest constricting painfully.

“I know, Cas.  I miss you too.  But it’s only another 4 weeks before the summer semester is over,” he says.  It would be remiss of Dean to not admit that he’s been counting down the days until Castiel’s return home.

“I hate it here.  I don’t have any friends.”

Dean frowns.  “That’s not true.  You have Hannah and Balthazar.  And didn’t ou say you met some Spanish guy you liked the other day? Inias?  Did you go out drinking with them tonight?”

castiel grumbles something unintelligible, and Dean sighs.  Castiel is a grumpy drunk: stubborn, lazy, and grumbly.  Dean is getting ready to tell him to go to bed when he hears him mutter, “They aren’t you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said they aren’t you.  I feel lonely because I don’t have you, here, with me.”

Dean swallows, “Cas…”

“I know what you’re going to say, Dean.  That it’s only four more weeks.  That we’re still ‘broken up’ while I’m in Spain.  Ugh,” he sighs.  “I wish I’d never left home.  Wish I’d never left you.”

Dean feels a lump in his throat, and there’s a pain pinging in his chest that won’t go away.  “Hey,” he whispers, vice soft, and then clears his throat so he doesn’t start to cry himself, “are you feeling alright now?  Make sure you take some aspirin before you go to sleep.”

Castiel grumbles again, but Dean knows that he’ll do as he’s told.  He sighs, leaning against the counter, and reaches out to poke his soufleé.  He can hear Castiel shuffling around on the other end of the phone, presumably getting himself into bed. 

“Alright, Dean,” Castiel grunts after a minute or two, “I’m in bed.  I think…,” he sighs, and Dean can hear him smacking his lips together.  “I am going to be very hungover tomorrow.”

Dean snorts.  “Yeah, you are.”

“I’m sorry I called you.”

Dean frowns.  “Hey, don’t apologize,” he says quickly, and then bites his tongue to keep the words y _ou can call me anytime_ from tumbling out.  He swallows, hard.  “I’m sorry that you’re homesick.  But I’ll be there to pick you up at the airport in 4 weeks, okay?  And then I’ll take us on a real nice date, we’ll get hamburgers, or something.”

Castiel perks up, whispering a hopeful, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.  I can’t wait to see you,” he admits.  

“I can’t wait to see you either,” Castiel says, and then he stifles a yawn.  Dean is just about to tell him to go to bed, but Cas beats him to the punch.  “I’m gonna go to sleep now, but… I love you, Dean.”

Dean swallows again, then nods, then grunts back at cas when he realizes he can’t actually see what he’s doing.  “Yeah, uh.  Hmm.  I know,” he coughs, then dds. “Yeah, me too.  I love you too.”

Dean doesn’t need to see castiel’s face in-person to know he’s grinning, now.  “Goodnight, Dean.  I’ll see you in four weeks.”

He hangs up, and Dean drops his phone back onto the counter letting a long, tired sigh out from between his lips.  Yeah, this is going to be a long four weeks.

As he’s tidying up the kitchen, putting ingredients away and washing the dishes, he finds himself humming.   _"A stove is a stove, no matter where you go…”_

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE COMMENT!


	15. Let's Stay Close Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destiel with #16 -things you said with no space between us (possibly nsfw??)

Castiel’s thighs quiver, he feels the caress of Dean’s fingers as they skim over the trembling muscles of his lower back, his hip and thigh, between his legs.  he sivers, a small gasp punched out of his chest when Dean's work-rough hand wraps around his cock, tugging at the raw flesh, making the head swell and drip with precum.

Dean bends down and presses a soft, reverent kiss to Castiel’s left buttock, then opens his mouth against the tan flesh and drags his teeth over the sensitive skin.  Castiel sighs and turns his head, blinking owlishly back at Dean, who simply smiles with pretty, white teeth showing and twists his fingers around the underside of Cas’s cock.  He rubs his index finger along the glans and Cas sighs again, pretty blue eyes fluttering closed, lashes fanning out over his flushed cheeks.

“Love seein’ you like this, Cas,” Dean says, voice rough and strained because he’s aroused, and he clears his throat.  His hand moves away from Castiel’s cock, fingers dipping between the globes of his ass and index finger skimming his hole.  They fucked earlier, which is why Castiel is so sensitive now, and his hole is still wet with sticky lube and cum.  His finger slips in easily and Dean crooks his index this way and that, tugging at Castiel’s rim, licking his lips when he sees a dribble of cum leak along the seam of his balls.  Castiel whimpers.

“Dean, please,” he says, shaky.  Dean glances up at him, eyes intent and dark with lust, and Castiel’s mouth suddenly feels so parched.  He smacks his lips together, wetting them with his pink tongue, and Dean watches like a predator stalking his prey.

“Yeah, Cas?” he asks, and he slips his fingers out of his hole, wiping the wetness away on the inside of Castiel’s thigh and then crawling up the bed so he can be closer.  He drapes himself over Castiel, body stretched languidly over Castiel’s back, and kisses the back of his shoulder with soft, intent kisses.

“I just want to be close to you,” Castiel says.  It’s less an admission and more a statement of well-known fact.  Castiel craves closeness and affection like no other partner Dean has ever had.  Dean always readily offers his touch when Castiel asks; whether simply a hug or kiss on the cheek, or a rough fuck against their kitchen table.

“I think can be arranged,” Dean says, and he sighs when he feels his half-hard dick rub against castiel’s inner thigh.  He reaches down and adjusts himself, slotting himself between Castiel’s butt cheeks and rutting lazily against him.  he kisses Castiel’s shoulder, then huffs out against his neck, “Is this good?”

“Yeah,” Castiel answers.  Each downward thrust of Dean’s hips, as his cock bobs and pushes against the sweaty seam of his ass, pushes Castiel’s own hips down into the mattress and rubs his sensitive cock against the sheets.  The friction is delicious and constant.  Castiel can’t hold back his moan, and he pushes back against Dean, feeling his own cock rub and rub and rub against the sheets.  He’s dripping all over them, making a filthy mess.

Dean’s cock pushes between the globes of his ass, and Dean reaches down, gripping one butt cheek hard, fingers digging into his soft flesh and leaving bruises for the morning.  His other hand curls around castiel’s hip, and on the next thrust down his cockhead catches on Castiel’s puffy, swollen rim, already sticky with cum from earlier.  Dean groans and bites at Castiel’s shoulder, leaving a mark.  Castiel sighs as he cums into the sheets beneath him, making a big wet spot and a mess of his groin and chest.

Dean sits up, taking his cock into his hand and stripping it, fast and hard.  Castiel cranes his neck back, twisting his bid around so that he can watch Dean while he masturbates.  He groans, teeth digging into his lower lip, and starts to make these adorable  _hu-hu-hu_  noises when he gets close.  His fingers are still digging into Castiel’s buttock, holding him in place, and with a final cry Dean cums in thick, sticky-white stripes over Castiel’s ass and thighs.

They collapse together, rolling away from the wet spot when Castiel complains that it feels gross.  Pressed together, sharing lazy kisses, they are no less sticky and wet but at least they are war and content in each other’s arms.

“I want to be close to you too, Cas,” Dean says, foreheads knocking together, and he stares soulfully into Castiel’s happy, loving eyes.  “Forever, you know?”

Castiel smiles.  “Yes, I know.”

Dean grins, and laughs, and pushes Castiel backward with the force of his next kiss.  Cas squeaks when he lands in the wet-spot, the sheets cold and damp now that they’ve moved away from them.  Dean kicks the duvet out of the way and draws Cas in for another kiss, smiling.  Castiel can’t find a reason not to smile back.  Dean Winchester just told him he loves him, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lemme see you throw those COMMENTS in a CIRCLE! ;)


	16. Shots, Shots, Shots, Shots, Shots, Shots, Everybody!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and dean get drunk and summon Castiel. Pre-Destiel, Angst. No Happy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-read

Sam throws back another tequila shot and nearly topples out off his seat, he’s laughing so hard.  The sticky drink sloshes over the side of his glass and onto his fingers, and he licks it off his thumb while he tries to keep his tears at bay.  He’s laughing so hard that it’s hard not to cry, and he isn’t even sure what he’s laughing at any longer.

Dean lifts his head from where its dropped onto the counter, revealing his face: cross-eyed, with drinking straws that he’s breathing through stuck up each of his nostrils.  Oh right, t _hat’s_ what Sam was laughing at.  He guffaws at the sight of it, slapping his hand on the table and pointing at his brother.

“Oh my God,” he sobs, body shaking with laughter and he wobbles as he stands, reaching out to clap his brother on the shoulder.  “We’ve got to show Cas.”

“No, Cas is busy,” Dean slurs, smile fading from his eyes.  he adjusts the straws in his nostrils and takes a hearty sniff.

“Dude, if you’re not careful you’re gonna get ‘em stuck up there,” Sam snickers, phone already out and recording video of Dean’s antics.  Dean reaches out and swats ineffectively at the camera, frowning.

“Don’t call Cas, Sam, he’s busy,” he repeats.  “Too busy to come see us,” he mutters.  Sam reaches out and flicks one of the straws lodged in his brother’s nose, and Dean’s nose crinkles as if he’s going to sneeze.  he does another shot instead, some tequila dribbling down his chin on to his shirt.  he slams the shot glass on to the counter hard enough to shatter it, and he cuts his hand.

“Damn it, Cas,” he calls, and when he turns around, Castiel is standing behind him, frowning.  he reaches out to touch Dean’s forehead, but then he flinches away, and Cas aborts the movement.  He reaches for Dean’s bloody hand instead, laying their hands together palm to palm, and the cut instantly heals.

“Oh my God, Cas!” Sam laughs, dropping his phone with a clatter and stepping forward, wrapping the angel in a tight hug.  “I was  _just_ going to call you!”

“I see,” Castiel says, patting Sam on the back, and when they break apart Castiel and Dean are left standing in front of each other, face to face.  Dean won’t stop scowling at Cas, and the angel isn’t sure why, but Dean doesn’t look very serious at all with those straws in his nose.  he reaches out and plucks them from his nostrils, ignoring the indignant squack of protest Sam lets out when he does.  “Are you two… alright?” he asks, eyes flickering away fro  Dean to Sam.  Sam shrugs, and Dean continues to scowl.

“Yeah, we’re  _fine_ , Cas,” Dean slurs.  Castiel looks constipated.

“Alright, well then…,” he backs away from Dean, but Dean steps forward, following him.  He frowns.  “I do have business to attend to in Heaven.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Dean says.  “Always got business in Heaven,” he mutters.  Castiel directs on last, consternation glance at Dean before he nods, turns and flies away.  Leaving Sam and Dean alone in their motel room once again.  Dean scowls and turns, dropping himself heavily onto his bed and dragging a pillow close to his chest.  Sam sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, “Me too.”


	17. The Triathlon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel begins training for a triathlon. Then he meets his personal swim coach, Dean Winchester.

_Don’t stop believing… Hold on to that feeling… Street lights, people…_

Castiel is training for a triathlon.  Though he’s run in marathons before (won a few, in his younger days) he’s never competed in a triathlon before and he’s looking forward to the challenge.  So far, his biggest hiccup has been keeping up the stamina to swim a whole mile without stopping to rest.  He’s never been much of a swimmer, although he did take lessons when he was a kid.

He’s pretty sure it’s going to take a miracle to get him through the swimming portion of this competition.

But that’s the fun part of this: the challenge. Castiel stops running to take a water break, doing high-knees while he guzzles from his water bottle.  He’s taking a jog down to the community pool to meet his trainer now: former Olympic swimming competitor Dean Winchester.  According to his brother, he placed 4th in the 100m Breaststroke at the 2016 Olympics, right under Cody Miller.  His brother swam in the 2016 Olympics as well, but Jimmy didn’t place.  he still had Olympic connections, though: hence Dean becoming castiel’s personal trainer to get him ready for the mile-long swim he was going to have to take to finish this triathlon.

“Hey, you must be Cas,” A man, tall, lithe and built with toned biceps and strong legs jogs up to him.  He can feel his heart pounding in his chest just at the sight of the man, and he quickly turns off the EKG on his wrist so it won’t start beeping out of control.  he jogs forward to meet the man halfway, and sticks out a sweaty hand.

“Yeah.  You’re Dean, right?” He asks, and he can’t help but let his eyes sweep up and down his body.  This guy is… this guy is fucking  _hot_.  He looks up again, and sees that Dean is staring at him.   _Oh God_ , Castiel thinks,  _he saw me checking him out.  C_ astiel’s cheeks turn bright red and he turns away.  He doesn’t even catch the fact that Dean is blushing, too.

“So,” Dean claps his hands together and rubs them, “How about we head down to the pool and get started?”

“Uh, yeah.  that sounds great!” Cas says too-quickly, then clears his throat and lowers his voice, trying to make himself seem more composed, “Good.  That sounds good.”

dean smiles.  “Cool.  Did you bring a suit?” he asks.  Castiel nods, and Dean smirks.  “Great.  I can’t wait to see you in it,” he says, and the damn bastard tosses hm a wink.  castiel sputters a little, and feels his skin flush all the way below his belt.

Oh, God.  This is going to be a rough 6 weeks training.

═════ °• ♔ •° ═════

At their wedding, 9 months later, Jimmy proudly stands up to give his best man speech.

“So when my brother told me he was going to compete in a triathlon, I immediately hatched the brilliant plan to set him up with none other than Olympic athlete, Dean Winchester…"


	18. A Snapshot of the Winchester-Novak Household

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel's credit card information is stolen, but it's okay.

“Yes, I’ll hold,” Dean sighs, and glares at his mobile phone when some tinny, [dubstep remix of  _Smoke on the Water_](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D-LNTvDKBoxs&t=ZjU3ZDc4YzUyNGM1MTYxNTNiNjE3Yjc5NGYzZjFhZjMzNDc1MDg3NCx0ZVJuWmJsNA%3D%3D&b=t%3AOrtB0OUatO1YRkS8mEwWXw&p=https%3A%2F%2Fsmack-that-assbutt.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F172077664113&m=1) begins to blast through the speakers.  Dean was pretty upset before, but this is probably the last step.  He growls, about to throw his phone across the room, when the front door to their apartment opens and Castiel comes through, grocery bags in one hand, keys in another, and their four-year-old son Jack balanced on his shoulders.

“Our credit card was declined at the grocery store,” Castiel says, dropping the bags onto the couch and helping his son down onto the floor.  Jack runs over to dean, hugging his legs.  Dean leans down and ruffles his hair.

“Hey, kid.  You want some juice?” he asks.  Jack nods, a gummy smile creeping onto his face.  Since they adopted him seven months ago, Jack has been non-verbal.  Their family therapist has told them it’s normal for a child coming from a traumatic background such as Jack’s, and that they should be patient.  Dean remembers when he was Jack’s age, after the fire that killed his mom, he didn’t talk for a full year.  Not until Sammy started to learn to talk, and Dean took it at his responsibility to teach his brother. He knows Jack will talk when he’s ready.

On his way to the refrigerator to get Jack’s juice, Dean glances back at his husband.  “Yeah, babe, I know.  I’ve been on the phone with the credit card company all afternoon,” he rolls his eyes.  “I guess there was a card scanner stuck on the ATM and somebody stole our credit card info.”

“Fuck.  All afternoon?” Castiel winces, and comes to sit at the kitchen island.  he helps Jack into the seat next to him, sliding his juice over when Dean sets it on the counter.

“It’s okay.  They’ve been supplying me with tons of rock ‘n’ roll dubstep to pass the time,” Dean says, gesturing to his phone that’s sitting on the kitchen countertop, blasting bad music.  Castiel lifts his eyebrows and nods.

“Ah.  Well, I’m sorry about that.  Do you think they’re going to get us our money back?”

“They better,” Dean grumbles.  “Or our credit is gonna go…,” he sticks his thumb down and makes a farting-noise with his tongue.  Jack giggles, pointing to Dean, and a smile breaks out on his face.  He reaches out for Jack, grabbing him under his armpits and tickling him.  

“What’s so funny, baby?” he asks, then makes another farting noise.  Jack shrieks, laughing, and squirms out of Dean’s grip when he continues to tickle him.  Castiel smiles fondly watching them chase each other around the living room, Jack shrieking and laughing and Dean making gross farting noises.

When the music stops coming out of Dean’s phone and the credit card sales representative returns to the line, Castiel picks up the call.  He should let Dean enjoy this moment with their son.

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